Stories of a Satellite
by TartKiwiFruit
Summary: "So do you think Amity Park is anything like Dimmsdale?" "Actually...there are some striking similarities." Trixie Tang's neurotic satellite Veronica moves to Nowheresville, Idaho- AKA Amity Park- and falls in with the Populars. Her obsession with losers in reddish colored hats draws her to some new losers, and the ghost ridden town's superhero. Review if you want updates.
1. Chapter 1

**There are a lot of Danny Phantom fanfics out there, with lots of outside-looking-in perspectives…but few from Paulina's. So rather than write about Paulina herself, and because I love crossovers, I brought in a total stranger from far away Dimmsdale. A psychologically unsound, geek-loving stranger.**

**Veronica was very much abused in The Fairly Oddparents show, much more so than Star. But then again, she's spiteful, obsessive, and a little crazy. This story takes place five years after tFOP, when Ronnie's in tenth grade rather than fifth, so she's matured a little bit.**

**So here you are!**

The pouring rain slammed onto the windows of the car with enough wind driven force to splatter into inch-wide liquid circles. They flew like kamikaze warriors determined to get their enemies wet. The sky above was as dark and stormy as expected.

_The better to amplify my mood, _Veronica thought darkly as she stared into the storm from the back seat of her father's beat up '95 Toyota Corolla. The scenery whizzed by so fast that, combined with the rain, she couldn't even see the road taking her farther and farther away from her home. Away from Dimmsdale.

"You alright back there, Ronnie?" came a voice from the front of the car. "You've been awfully quiet, and it's not like you not to take advantage of this time to chat with, uh , what was your friend's name again? Trina? Rickie? Cee—"

"No Dad, I'm not alright," Veronica snarled back, breaking her vow of silence. "My idiot parents are getting divorced and now my idiot father is taking me away from my idiot mother and my non-idiot friends for his own selfish whims. And her name is _Trixie, _Da, I've only been going to her house for sleepovers every other week since I was eight."

"Hey now," her father sighed. "I know this divorce is hitting you badly, but that's no way to speak about either me or your mother, but I'm going to let it go and not ground you your first week in Amity Park—"

"Not that it matters, since I haven't freaking got any FRIENDS—"

"—So you can go 'hang around' and meet some _new_ frien—"

"It's called hanging out, and you can't just make friends in a day by loitering around the mall!"

"Would you rather be grounded?"

Veronica bit back an angry retort saying she would, because she really did want to scope out the mall, her soon-to-be home-away-from-home. With the divorce and the move, she knew she'd get plenty of guilt money. She didn't let her pride force her to make a self-damning comment, but it wouldn't let her admit that her father was right.

Her father sighed once again; this wasn't the first time Veronica had given him the silent treatment, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"I need you to help me unpack when we get there," he began.

"Oh, so I still won't actually—"

"_BUT_, but but but," he continued, not letting Veronica finish her indignant tirade, "I'm not going to ask you to. I want you to have a good first impression of Amity Park, so I'm going to give you seventy-five dollars to stake out the mall, and you can come home whenever you feel like it."

Veronica brightened up; that was fifteen dollars more than usual! Maybe this whole divorce-and-moving-and-ruining-her-entire-freaking -life thing wasn't so bad after all. "Alright," she agreed.

"Besides," her father continued with a smirk in his voice. "I need you out of my hair when you're being all moody like this."

And that, with four dollars and twenty-three cents left in her purse, was how Veronica found herself the next morning, with nearly seventy dollars' worth of purchases from various boutiques in bags around her feet. She'd opted to go that day rather than the night they'd arrived so she could spend the entire day there rather than a few hours.

_I'm not __**moody, **_she lied to herself and she sucked on the dregs of her frappuccino. _I'm just… bored. _Normally a day of shopping would have made her ecstatic. Normally she'd have spent the shopping day with Trixie Tang. She put the small book she was reading in her purse (even Veronica liked to read, occasionally, all right?! Don't judge.) and withdrew her phone.

_The mall here is pretty nice_, she texted. After a moment's thought, she also sent _But itd be more fun with you :/_.

_I miss u 2, bby! _Trixie replied immediately. _Now i have no1 2 go shoppin withhh! if u c any hotties, send me pix ;)_

Hotties, huh? Veronica mused as she texted back that she would. It was true that no one could take a creeper pick like Veronica. Trixie knew that she was good, but she never knew just how good.

Veronica looked up to see if she could fulfill her bestie's wishes, and her eyes soon found a perfect specimen. She snapped a picture as she studied him. Trixie's two types were stereotypical hot jock, and tortured/sensitive/ironic artists with chin beards, like Chip Skylark. (It helped if they were insanely famous.) This boy was easily of the former category.

He really was good looking, though not her type. The boy was tall and fit, with that upside-down triangle physique common to athletic types, and had close cropped blond hair. The letter jacket he wore revealed him as a high school student where Veronica herself would soon be attending, Casper High. He was laughing and being loud and pretty much being a teenager with a group of other good looking friends.

_Hmm, _thought Veronica as she looked over the guy's group. The two girls of the group had straightened hair, perfectly applied makeup, and high-end designer clothing. The two boys were similar in shape and both wearing letter jackets. They reminded her so much of herself, Trixie, Tad, Chad, and their other various followers. Veronica's heart sped up as she put a name to what they were, and what she intended to become again.

Populars.

_It'd be good if I met them now so I have an excuse to sit with them once the school year starts, _Veronica ascertained as she threw her empty drink cup in the general direction of a garbage can. She tried to tell herself to not assume immediately that just because they were attractive, rich, and loud that they were popular, but she was already confidently walking towards them with her many shopping bags in hand. As she drew nearer, she heard the prettier Hispanic one saying "and I like totally caught her making out with Ryan, though she won't admit it. Who does she think she is, the skank?! I mean, like, Ryan's been crushing on _me _since, like…"

Yep. Definitely populars.

Alright, since the dark-haired girl seemed to be the highest in rank, she was the one Veronica would suck up to—uh, try to make friends with. As she walked toward the group, with the sound of her high-heeled sandals clacking on the floor boosting her confidence, Veronica mentally prepped herself. _Okay: common interest, flattering, maybe some conversation and deferring to her alpha-femaleness… let's do this!_

"Ohmigawd!" Veronica shrieked as she "accidentally" walked right into the girl and dropped all her bags. "I am like, so, SO sorry? I totally wasn't paying attention at all. My bad!" She waved her phone in front of them as explanation.

"Um, yeah, you should be?" the AF (alpha-female) began angrily. "Could you like maybe watch where you're going, next time? I think you—"

"Ohmigawd," Veronica screamed again. _Don't let yourself be made into an enemy. Flattery time. _"Are those Pour la Victoire?" she asked, gesturing at the AF's shoes. "I just _love _platform and wedge sandals. I saw those in a magazine, and I was like, totally thinking of getting them, but they just look so good on you I don't think I can anymore." _Too much? _She lifted her own comparatively-cheaper-Dolce-Vita-caged-sandal-clad foot. "I guess I'll just stick to these, for now."

There: flattery, a common interest, total alpha deferral, and a conversation starter.

Apparently it wasn't too much. "Actually, they're Miu Miu," the AF said with smile. "And I totally know what you mean, platforms are like, soooo much fun. I actually only got these, like, two weeks ago, so they're still totally rare." The AF swished her hair back and gave Veronica a dazzling smile that made her heart clench and reminded her so much of Trixie. "I'm Paulina, by the way. Sanchez."

"Veronica," the now-potential-A-lister said, and sat down in the seat that had been vacated by the Asian jock_. _"So, you guys look like you know this mall. What are the best places to go to?" She made a pout. "I just moved here, and this is nothing like my old mall."

"Where're you from? Oh, and I'm Star, this is Kwan, and that's Dash." Veronica had barely noticed the other girl behind Paulina's dazzling aura until she spoke up. She was clearly the sidekick, the satellite, the deputy, that every ultra-popular girl needed. To be one left girls proud to be so close to such a radiant person, but bitter and jealous that they _weren't _them. Veronica knew the position well, having occupied it herself, with Trixie.

Paulina looked slightly put out from being interrupted, but got over it, wanting to know the answer herself. "Dimmsdale," Veronica supplied. "It's in California."

"So have you ever seen—" the Kwan began, but was interrupted by his blond friend.

The mall consisted of two floors. The first one looked like a normal mall, with a fountain and food courts and the like. The second one, which had the Starbucks Veronica had bought from and where she and her newly-met acquaintances now were, was essentially a long balcony road on either side of the mall in front of the storefronts, with the middle of the floor open to view the level below. A bridge separated the two sides of the second floor every few hundred feet or so.

"C'mere, come here!" Dash stage-whispered, gesturing 'come here' motions from where he was kneeling in front the bars of the balcony, looking down at something on the floor below. Paulina made a shrugging motion and went to him. Star and Veronica followed.

Walking on the first floor was a trio of teenagers that Dash was pointing at. "Since you're new here, I'll do you a favor and show you the _losers _you need to avoid. That's Fentoenail and his sidekicks, and they're the most fun nerds to mess with in like the entire school."

"Hmm," Veronica made a non-committal noise as she examined the victims, while Paulina vocally expressed her own issues with the group.

"Fenton and Foley aren't too bad," Paulina sighed, "I mean, they have crushes on me, so they know how to do one thing right! But that girl, Manson…! She, like, totally sucks the fun out of everything!" She glared at the girl below and Veronica studied them.

The goth girl that Paulina had some vendetta against wore dark clothing and combat boots, but she looked a little too happy to be a _real _goth—she wasn't grey like Francis. She was just content to break the molds that Paulina, Star, and Veronica so happily filled, and ignore social norms in favor of comfort and confidence in herself. Veronica could see why Paulina hated her.

The white boy in nondescript jeans and a t-shirt was gesturing angrily to his friends, who appeared to be nodding and speaking in sympathy. He was skinny and of average height, with wild black hair falling into his eyes every so often. Bo-ring!

But the third boy…oh man. He was black and wore a red beret, which clashed horribly with his yellow shirt and olive cargo pants. That, combined with the piece of technology in his hand that he was fiddling with, absolutely screamed _TECHNO-GEEK! NERD! DWEEB!_

Veronica's heart sped up. _Oh, why oh why must I be cursed to have a thing for losers in red-hued caps?!_

While Veronica examined the three losers, Dash, after looking around wildly for any ammunition, grabbed Star's almost finished Iced Tea and lobbed it at his favorite human punching bag. The football star's aim was true, and the icy dregs of the pink drink exploded open on his clean(ish) white(ish) shirt.

"Here you go, Fentwirp!" Dash shouted down and the now soaked freshman. "I figure since you're too afraid to use the showers at school, I'd give you one now. Can't wait for school to start tomorrow!"

The boy let out a roar of frustration. "Dash!" he shouted. "Why don't you give it a rest already?!" His two friends alternated between looks of sympathy at their ice-tea'd buddy and loyal rage at his bully. He was clearly someone Dash loved to pick on, more than other nerds. The boy—Fentwirp—took in a breath as if to yell some more, when blue fog billowed out from his mouth, despite him being inside a mall in the heat of summer. He clapped his hand over his mouth and looked at his dork-friends. Veronica, unexplainably suspicious, whipped out her phone and snapped a photo.

It wasn't the strange rumbling that alerted Veronica to something being wrong, and it wasn't even her new friends' dismayed shrieks and moans of "ghost!". Rather, she began to sense something ominous before that, when the light all around her seemed to change color. The mall seemed to get darker, deepening into shades of purple and green. (Which, fyi, seriously don't go well together. Just saying.) Patrons of the mall were running around and shrieking, but with no discernible location of the source of the…whatever it was, they didn't know what exit to run to.

"I AM TECHNUS, MASTER OF ALL THINGS TECHNOLOGICAL AND BEEPING!" Veronica's head whirled around at what had to be something like 35mph to stare at the source of the booming, reverberated sound. The masses, now that they knew what to run from, promptly did. Screaming. Loudly.

Veronica didn't notice that her new friends had abandoned her. She didn't notice how she was quickly becoming the only one left in the mall. She held up her iPhone with shaking hands and took picture after picture of the…ghost.

The ghost.

"You!" Technus shouted, pointing at Veronica, and more importantly, her phone. Veronica couldn't move or feel anything beyond her racing pulse and the coldness of terror on the back of her neck. _I can't move. I can't move._

Technus held up a hand and waved it at Veronica. Glowing green televisions, gaming consoles, cell phones, computer monitors, and more rushed toward her. _I can't move. I'm going to die._

Suddenly Veronica felt herself being lifted off the floor and out of the way of homicidal technology. A reverberating voice near her ear shouted out: "The beeping isn't even half as annoying as you, Technus; I surprised it even lets you be its patron ghost! Are you sure you don't want to switch to something more appropriate for you, like 'Master of the Sound of Nails on a Chalkboard,' or 'Master of Construction at Six Thirty AM?'"

She looked up into bright green eyes, brighter than peridot, brighter than emeralds. They were framed in a friendly, glowing face, which was in turn topped by shockingly white hair…all suspended about fifty feet above the ground.

"Hi," the voice of the owner of the green green eyes said. "You must be new in town."

**I don't actually know anything about designer brands—I just searched designer sandals and compared prices. I shop at Wal-Mart. ;;**

**For the design of the mall, I don't remember seeing it that way in a DP episode, but I only recall seeing one section of the mall—there may be others. I based this mall off of one in my hometown, and used it so the Populars could better spy on Danny and co.**

**I'm probably not going to continue with this, since the plot bunny has been properly expunged from my system, and I no longer feel compelled to write it…unless you beg for more.**


	2. Chapter 2

The first day of school presented itself as all school days feel: grey and dreary, with damp winds bringing the occasional spurt of rain. The temperature was cold enough to need to wear a coat, despite the fact that according to the calendar it was still summer. Most students would have said with all confidence that the grey sky matched their moods perfectly.

Not Veronica. Veronica was up, dressed, hair-straightened, and made-up by seven, eating her yogurt and granola. She'd managed to put together an excellent first-day outfit, despite the change the weather had caused in her plans. She was eagerly anticipating the first day of tenth grade, and for once, it wasn't for the chance to rip into some dorks or compare outfits with the populars.

"Ronnie, what are you doing up so early?" Veronica turned around to see her father, up and dressed, enter the kitchen. She knew his job started at seven thirty, while she had an hour until the bus came.

"Um, eating breakfast."

"Yes, dear, that much I gathered. I meant to place more emphasis on the "early" part of the question."

Veronica shrugged. "I just want to be prepared," she said, and returned to her breakfast.

"So, do you..." Veronica's dad began awkwardly. "Do you want to talk about— oh, now where is the toaster?"

"In the box labeled 'Kitchen Appliances.'"

"Ah yes, thank you hon. Now do you, um, want to talk about what happened…yesterday?"

Veronica hunched a little, barely noticeably, over her yogurt. "No."

"Because you came home looking all shaken up, and you didn't show me what you bought, and you just seemed—"

"I know how I seemed!" Veronica snapped. "And I don't. Want. To talk about it."

"Alright, alright," her father placated, holding up his hands in surrender. "You don't want to talk about it now, but if you do, just know I'm all ears." He sat down next to her and buttered his toast, and Veronica remained silent.

Truthfully, Veronica _did _want to talk about what had happened at the mall the previous day, but not with her father. She wanted answers, and she was pretty sure she knew who could supply them.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Ohmigosh," Paulina had gasped, fanning herself with her hands, when the whole fiasco was over. Once the Green-eyed Hero had beaten the snot out of the technology ghost and... sucked him into a thermos, maybe?, the populars had returned from their hiding places to rescue/interrogate Veronica. "You just got held by the Phantom! The Ghost Boy, _my _Ghost Boy! Ohmigosh, he held you like a princess," Paulina squealed. She suddenly grabbed Veronica's shoulders and stared intensely into her eyes. "Do you know how much I would kill to have been you, just then? Because I, like, kind of want to kill you right now. You don't have some sort of relationship with the Ghost Boy, do you?"

"Um, I—"

"Of course she doesn't, Paulina," Star snorted. "She screamed! What kind of girl gets rescued by _Phantom _and screams in his face?"

"Well, that—"

"I guess you're right," Paulina murmured, stepping back to stare at Veronica with less intensity. "The Ghost Boy doesn't leave Amity Park, and she's from California…" she mused, looking Veronica up and down. Like a predator.

Like competition.

_Crap, no, I can't afford this! _Veronica mentally screamed. She couldn't have Paulina thinking she was after her guy—which, according to Paulina, Phantom clearly was. She needed to roll over and submit, and fast, before Paulina had time to make the wrong impression.

"What? No! I don't know that… ghost! That was a ghost, right? No!" Veronica hugged herself and shuddered dramatically. "Who the heck is Phantom? _What _is Phantom?"

Paulina gasped. "Excuse me? Phantom is only, like, the hottest, sweetest, sexiest, hero this town has! He is totally a _who, _not a 'what.'"

Alright, maybe insulting her crush wasn't a good idea. But how else could she show she wasn't interested? (Even if she was. Fortunately, though, she really wasn't.)

"I mean, like, I'm not saying he _isn't_ hot," Veronica quickly backtracked. "I just don't go for, um, you know… ghosts. So, uh, who is Phantom?"

Apparently Paulina's urge to gush about the subject of her adoration won over any animosity Veronica had developed.

"Okay. So. So, like, everyone knows ghosts don't exist, right?" Paulina began. Well, that was indeed what Veronica had thought, before that day. "They used to not exist in Amity Park either, but then, like, these crazy ghost hunters who live here—they're Fenton's parents, actually, that's the dweeb Dash threw the drink at—apparently made this, like, portal thingy into the ghost's world? Yeah, they have their own world! I know, crazy right? Anyway, that made it a lot easier for ghosts to come into our world. It turns out ghosts have always existed, but now that they can come through the portal, there are a lot more of them. You following?"

No. "Um, I think so?" Veronica hedged. As Paulina spoke, the group made their way back to the table they'd started at to reclaim their shopping bags. "So Phantom's just a random ghost from the ghost world?"

"No!" Paulina scolded emotionally. The group picked up their bags and Veronica followed them as they walked towards the mall entrance. Since most people had run away and not returned since Technus attacked, the whole place was pretty empty. "Okay, firstly, Phantom is the most NOT-random ghost in the world, and secondly, it's called the Ghost _Zone, _not the Ghost _world._"

"Duh," Star added. _Ah yes, the derisive condescension of an insecure girl putting down a complete stranger for not knowing something particular to a location she only just came to the night before. How I have missed it._ Usually that girl was Veronica.

"Ghost Zone, fine," Veronica conceded.

They had reached the parking lot, where a Hispanic man in a very big car awaited them.

"Oh, looks like we've got to go," Paulina realized as Dash, Star, and Kwan hopped into the back of the SUV, clearly at home in it. She got in, with a wave as the car drove off, called "We'll talk tomorrow, new girl, see you later!"

"Oh, alright, I'll see you," Veronica called back to the quickly receding car. "…tomorrow. Yeah." They were gone, and Veronica was standing in the mall parking lot in the drizzling rain, with only her shopping bags for company.

As Veronica rode home, (on the bus of course, no pick-up for her while her father was hard at work unpacking,) she realized just how close to death she'd actually come. _That stupid sounding technology ghost would really have killed me, _she realized. _Hell, that Phantom nearly dropped me when I screamed in his face! _She leaned back in her seat and hugged herself. _I really could have died._

When she got home, she didn't respond to her father's: "Welcome back, Ronnie—oh, okay, well, I guess we'll talk later…" she just dropped her bags at the door, went up to her room, lied down on her bed, and trembled.

Now, sitting at her table in front of a finished breakfast, Veronica was done with that. No more trembling, no more fear. It was time to go and make her place in the social food chain, with a first impression that would determine her reputation till she either graduated or switched schools again. _And I intend to be in my place—at the top._

In Dimmsdale, Veronica would catch a ride with Trixie or Tad or Chad, who had personal chauffeurs. Seating on the bus was an important student ritual that played a part in forming the other kids' impressions of her. If she was left standing on the bus, looking lost as a lamb for a place to sit because she didn't have any friends yet, she was screwed…which was why, at seven-fifteen, Veronica put on her backpack and walked out the door to start the forty five minute walk to school. She was sure that this would be a one-time occurrence- by tomorrow, she'd have rich friends to drive her.

The air was chilly and damp, which was just fine by Veronica—although her designer deodorant smelled lovely, she still didn't want to be sweating at all. The gray sky above was lightening up as the sun rose higher in the sky, and Veronica was able to look up at the clouds that blocked it. _Pretty, _she thought, and took some pictures of them with her phone.

Suddenly, something rushed across the sky, interrupting a shot Veronica had had of the clouds. _A bird? _No, it was too big to be a bird; too low and too fast as well. Veronica was only able to take a single picture of it before it was out of sight.

She was still trying to depixelize the blurry photo when she arrived at school ten minutes later, fifteen minutes earlier than she'd predicted. Hmm, arriving early to school… she didn't want to look like a nerd. Maybe she'd go behind to school and smoke. Yeah, that's what cool kids did. Well, if the office was open, she'd get her scheduling and transfer issues taken care of first.

Veronica looked down the empty halls. Main office, main office… she chose a direction at random and headed down it. Wasn't there a map of this stupid school somewhere in her transfer's packet? _Stupid Amity Park, stupid Casper High… _She was still rifling through her bag when she bumped into the boy.

"Aw man," he groaned as his books came tumbling down. With her head buried in her bag, and his hidden behind his mountain of books, neither student had seen the other. He bent down to pick them up.

"Oh, so—" Veronica began, before she noticed,

It was him.

The boy from the mall, the techno geek-loser who's friend had been showered with Starbucks Iced Tea.

Her first thought was: _Oh man, I hope he doesn't recognize me from the mall._

Her second thought was: _Is there anyone watching? I don't want people to see me talking to this guy._

Her third thought was: _Wait, why do I care if he recognizes me? No, it'd be better if he's already seen me with the Populars!_

Her fourth thought was: _What the hell is 'Ectoplasmic Aggregation in Retardant and Diffuse Environments'?_

The last thought came from a glance at the cover of one of the books the boy had dropped. They were all titles with ridiculously academic names on topics such as the physics of flight, nuclear physics, the effect of sound on mental functions, child vs adult brain development, and…ghost stories? One of these things is not like the other.

"S-sorry," she said after the one or two seconds it had taken her to think the previous two paragraphs. She didn't offer to help him with his books (she said sorry, but he was still a geek,) and instead focused on the papers she had dropped.

"Hey, me too. Here, let me help you." Veronica looked up from her papers. The boy was offering to help her, and he hadn't even picked up his own crap yet. "The name's Tucker Foley, by the way," he continued. "My initials, T.F., also stand for 'Too Fine,' you should know." Tucker looked at her with a grin and an eyebrow waggle. "Alez vouz?" He pronounced it "ah-lez vooz."

_Holy…is he actually trying to flirt with me? _Veronica actually found it ridiculously endearing how bad Tucker was at it. For anyone else she would immediately kill any thought in his head that he had a snowball's chance in hell with her, but he was so cute, and there was no one there anyway, and he was picking up her papers for her, and what could it hurt, really? If he mentioned it later, in public, she'd deny everything.

"Veronica Werden,"* Veronica replied. "And before you ask, yes, the Volkswagon initials were named after me."

"Ha, really?"

"No, of course not."

The papers were all gathered up, and Tucker moved on to his books. Veronica helped him, against her smarter nature.

"What's with all the weird books?" she asked, lifting up one on the physics of energy and waves. She opened it to a random page in the middle, and understood maybe one word in three of the paragraph she read.

"Oh, uh," Tucker said, gently taking the book from her hands and placing it on top of his pile. "It's just stuff for school. Extra credit." He shrugged. _Extra credit…what a nerd._

"Is that why you're here so early?" Veronica asked, and stood up. Tucker followed her lead, and they stood awkwardly in the middle of the hallway.

"No, actually," he laughed. "My friend gave me a ride, and we misjudged our timing and left too early. Since he had stuff to do and left, my other friend and I decided to just stay."

Veronica had no doubt that the "other friend" was the scrawny black haired bully punching-bag, she'd seen with Tucker yesterday at the mall, but who was the one who had given him the ride? Maybe the goth girl was older than she looked and had a license.

"So why are you here?" Tucker asked. Grinning suggestively and waggling his eyebrows again, he said "Were you that eager to see me? You probably sent your thoughts back in time telling you to go early, to meet me."

"Uh, no." Veronica raised her eyebrows disdainfully, but smiled nonetheless. "Same problem, I guess. Do you know where the main office is?"

"Yeah, I can take you there," Tucker said, and began walking. Veronica followed him. "But let me drop off these books in my locker first."

Well, it would give her more of the brief time without other students to talk to him. "Okay."

"So, new faces are kind of rare here at Casper, and I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you're not a freshman, so… what's your story?"

"I'm a sophomore," Veronica explained. She had the feeling she'd be doing a lot of that in the following weeks. "I transferred from Dimmsdale High School in Dimmsdale, California, 'cuz my father's work dragged me along. I got here two days ago."

"It must be fate."

Veronica snorted. "Fate. Sure."

They'd been walking for about a minute when Veronica realized, _Crap, no! There may be other people at the lockers- the more witnesses, the worse off I'll be. And that friend he mentioned—he's probably waiting there. This isn't going to fly._

"Actually, I think I can find the office by myself," Veronica said, laughing her Female Breathy Giggle.

"But thank God you don't have to," Tucker said with a smile back at her. Oh, he was so cute…no! None of that heretical thought. Losers are icky! "Here's my locker."

He gestured down the hallway they turned into with his chin, his arms being occupied with heavy textbooks, and the row of lockers that went down it. Sitting in front of one of the lockers was the Goth girl from the mall that Paulina hated—Manson. She looked up from the book she was reading when she heard Tucker's voice, and stood up and started walking towards the two of them.

_Witnesses. Craaaaaap… and even worse is the fact that Paulina __**hates **__this girl!_

"Hey Sam. A little help here-? Oh, great, thanks." Sam was already helping Tucker unload books into his locker. Veronica watched.

"Alright," Tucker said, once his arms were clear. "Time for introductions. Sam, Veronica. Veronica, Sam. Sam, Veronica's a transfer student from some place called Dimmsdale in California. Veronica, Sam is one of my best friends and a pretty awesome person. Not," he emphasized, "my girlfriend. Just my friend. Our relationship is totally platonic."

"Nice to meet you Veronica," Sam said with a small smile, holding her hand out to shake. _What students shake hands? I bet her parents are business people. _It took all of Veronica's willpower not to firmly accept the handshake, as she'd been taught by her own businesswoman mother.

"Um, I really need to find the office," Veronica said, finally accepting the handshake but doing so limply, and not looking into Sam's eyes. The small smile fell away to a cool, neutral, countenance.

"Right, right," Tucker _hmm_ed, looking up and down the hallway. "Just, before we go—Sam,

did Danny come back? It's been fifteen minutes…"

"Not yet," Sam sighed, casting a weary glance towards Veronica. "But give him a break, Tucker; I mean, it's one of the harder…jobs."

"Yeah," Tucker blew out his cheeks, putting his hands in his pockets. "Okay, office time. Follow me, fair maiden."

Veronica snorted, but blushed.

Tucker led her down a few confusing hallways, until…

"Alright, here's the main office."

It was locked.

Veronica groaned, and lightly kicked the wooden door. "Figures!" she whine/laughed.

"Oh geeze, that sucks," Tucker laughed. "Well, Principal Ishiyama should be here in like two—" He was interrupted by a loud crash that echoed from an adjacent hallway. The light in the school seemed to darken, turn purple and green, as it had in the mall. The temperature dropped what felt like ten degrees, and Veronica shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the chill.

"Ghost," she whispered.

"No! I mean, yes, but—" Tucker looked around nervously. "Don't freak out, alright? It's probably not even going to come down this hallw—"

_WHAM!_ A ghost came flying through the wall, crashing into the one right next to the doorway to the main office. It grunted in pain. Veronica screamed.

"What's this, little boy? Have you lost your will to fight?"

"Not even close, Spectra," the first ghost snarled at the other that had come through the wall. He looked to be about the age of a teenager, maybe fourteen, with bright green—hey, wait, that was Phantom!

"Uuuh, we should go," Tucker suggested. Veronica hadn't even sensed him coming close to her, but now he was grabbing her hand. "C'mon!"

The two of them ran down the hallway, with the bangs, crashes, zaps, and witty banter echoing from the fight behind them. Tucker peeked around the corner at the fight, while Veronica hid behind the wall. _Damn, where is my phone? _It must have been in her bag, along with all her transfer papers, that she'd dropped when Phantom had crashed into the wall.

Tucker and Veronica sat in nervous, anticipatory silence as the fight raged on. Well, Veronica was nervous. Tucker, staring intensely at the fight, seemed more frustrated than afraid. But he'd been living in Amity Park for a while, and was probably used to ghost fights popping up with no warning whatsoever. Before long, the sounds stopped, ending with a feminine, ghostly, shriek.

"Tucker?" a voice called from the battleground. A totally human, non-reverberative (lol that's not a word) voice.

"Yeah, I'm here," Tucker said, leading Veronica around the corner. The black haired boy whom Dash had called Fentoenail was standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, holding a thermos. "Perfect timing, Danny, you completely missed the epic ghost fight that happened like _two seconds ago exactly where you're standing._"

"What are you talking about, Tuck? I was—" Danny startled visibly when Veronica came out from behind his friend. "—I was, uh, I was—uh, coming back from that errand I had to run. I totally missed the ghost fight." A strange sound came from the thermos, and Danny hastily put it behind his back.

_Oh man, another witness. I can't deal with this, _Veronica thought.

"Danny, this Vero—"

"I need to go!" Veronica gasped. The delayed shock of having a ghost slam into a wall not three feet from her was kicking in. She ran.

***Making this name up, since I couldn't find any mention of it online.**

** The mall scene was horrible. I would sit down to write, and managed to get down about two lines each time before giving up. It was just…painful. After that, however, my Muse seemed to get her act together and I wrote the next fifteen hundred words in about three days. (This is all after I've finished my homework and before I go to sleep at 10:30, and my school day is about thirteen hours, so essentially I wrote five hundred words in an hour, so there.)**

** If I decide to write another chapter, I think I'll do it from the Ghost Gang's point of view. :O**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ohmygod, I'm so stupid. Veronica's in tenth grade, not ninth. Paulina and Dash are in eleventh, Star and Kwan are in tenth.**

"Well that was unexpected," Danny remarked dryly. He and Tucker stared at the rapidly retreating form of the running girl until she turned a corner in the hallway and was gone from sight. "Usually they run from Phantom, not Fenton."

"Aaahmm," Tucker began. He couldn't really defend her—he'd only met her ten minutes ago, for Pete's sake. But she'd seemed okay from the little he'd seen of her. "I guess the running was… delayed? Or something."

"Or she was running from your clichéd amorous advances," snorted Sam as she walked down the hallway, towards Danny. "She doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who… how do I put this, Tucker? She doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who'd give you the time of day."

"Or a second glance," added Danny.

"Thank you, guys, I get it."

"Or a second thought," Sam continued.

"Yeah, you two think you're funny. I know."

"Anyway," Sam continued, wrenching herself away from the delightful game of Tease the Tucker, "That's not all. It's not just you, Tucker, it's all of us. I think that in normal circumstances, she wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with any of us. I saw her at the mall, yesterday, before Technus attacked—when Dash, y'know…" she and Tucker both looked at Danny sympathetically, who scowled at the memory. "She was near them when he did that. I don't know if she was with them, but I wouldn't be too surprised if she was."

Tucker shrugged the news off. "Don't worry, Sam, she's totally into me," he joked, with his special brand of false bravado. "That just means that I'll have an in with the popular crowd when we start going out. Then Paulina will see the merits of the Love Tuck, and fortunately, there'll be enough of me to go around."

"Hey, while we're in fantasy land, can I have my own spaceship?" Danny asked, after he snorted so strongly it sounded like a string bean was traveling up his nasal passages.

"Oh, oh, and I want a pet Amur Leopard! They're endangered, you know."

Tucker decided to go with it. "You guys are just jealous of my intimidating attractiveness," he said with an amicable grin. "I'll have you know that—"

A muffled screeching sound coming from Danny's direction overturned his smile. The three turned their attention to the yelling thermos in Danny's hand, with somewhat more somber expressions on their faces.

"So how'd it go?" Sam asked, nodding to the container. "Spectra's always tricky…I'm sorry we didn't help you out."

"No, it's fine, I needed those books from the library more," Danny said, waving his free hand in a 'it's all good' sort of motion. "Besides, she wasn't too bad this time," Danny admitted, and the three of them began to make their way back to their lockers. "It's weird actually, how easy it was. This is fourth time she's attacked in three days. Usually she's smarter than this, and stores up her energy in layers, like an onion." Sam and Tucker nodded, remembering the story of Spectra's unfortunate (for her) meeting with the Fenton Peeler. "But lately… she's attacking like Skulker. Or the Box Ghost."

"Wow," murmured Sam under her breath, raising her eyebrows and emitting a small snort.

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "She seems totally frantic, and it's making her dumb. And weak." He tossed the thermos in a flip as he walked. "Well, for the weakness, I'm not complaining. Still, I think I'm not going to flush her into the Ghost Zone for a little bit, if she's just going to come right back out again."

Sam and Tucker nodded in deferment to Danny's decision. After all, they weren't the one who had to fight the ghosts.

"Five minutes to Lancer," Tucker reminded, looking at his PDA. The hallways were starting to fill up with students, though the majority would probably come racing in with only seconds to spare. Danny nodded and went to his locker to grab his backpack, ready to be early, for once, to Lancer's class.

"So, speaking of Veronica…" Tucker began, as the two gathered their knapsacks and textbooks.

"Give it up, Tucker," Danny sighed. "We've been through this with Ashleigh, Paulina, Star, Symone, and Rachel. She's out of your league."

Tucker let his forehead fall onto his locker. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

"Crap."

The whispered swear was heard by no one but Veronica's reflection as she stared at herself in the mirror, mascara wand in hand. When she was freaked out, only three things were really effective in calming her down: taking pictures, talking with Trixie, and doing her makeup. Since two of those things required her phone, which was nowhere to be found when Veronica most needed a chill pill, she'd raced to the bathroom to utilize her emergency mascara and eyeliner.

Oddly enough, it wasn't the missing phone that suddenly had Veronica cursing—it was inside a handbag, hidden beneath official papers. She didn't think anyone would be able to see it and steal it. Rather it was the papers themselves—would she need them to be able to go to class? If she did, she'd have to come in late, making a bad first impression with the teacher, (not that she really cared what the teacher thought of her, but it was always better not to start yourself off at a disadvantage,) and become the center of attention for the students. Bad enough to be a new student—it was even worse to be a _late _new student. Veronica was not meant to be the center of attention. Her place was in the light emitted by the Star, not as it. In addition, she only had one eye finished makeup-wise.

"Crud. Crud crud crud," Veronica hissed under her breath as she quickly lined and mascara-ed her other eye. She'd just heard the first warning bell, and that didn't leave her much time to get to the office, turn in her papers, and get to the classroom before most of the other students. Without sweating. Oh well, she'd have to risk it. Most of her transfer files had been dealt with by her parents; it was unlikely that the teacher wouldn't have her on the roll just because she didn't hand in a few measly papers before period one instead of between periods one and two.

With her eyes finished, Veronica stuffed her makeup in her pockets and speed-walked out of the bathroom to her newly assigned locker. In elementary school, she would have run—but not now. The only times running didn't look absolutely dorky was when it was done on a sports field. She grabbed her backpack and—_oh crap, my schedule's in my purse—_and raced to her first period class which, fortunately, she'd memorized the location and time of that morning.

Timing was crucial in these developmental periods of reputation. Veronica didn't want to come in too early. In addition to having to suffer the teacher's presence alone, she'd also be viewed by the other students as an eager nerd. Come in too late, and she'd be the center of attention. Still, it was the first day of school. Hopefully she wasn't the only new student in the grade.

Veronica entered the room and chose a desk at the back of the classroom. She'd been lucky, and there had already been four people in the room when she'd entered. Students quickly came in, the rate increasing as the beginning of class approached. By the time the teacher came in, all the desks were filled. Veronica noticed Kwan in her row in the back, and waved to him. Kwan returned the wave with one of his own, and a large grin.

"Settle down class, settle down," the teacher called to the silent classroom as he walked in, closing the door behind him just as the bell rang. He was middle aged and bald, with a teacher's pale complexion and physique.(*) He looked up from the clipboard he was focusing on and surveyed the classroom. "Well," he said. "I see we have some new students."

Every head in the room turned to look at Veronica, presumably the only actual new student. She leaned back in her chair and smiled, exuding a confidence she didn't feel. Veronica noticed Tucker was in the same class, and catching her eye, he smiled and waved. Veronica pointedly ignored both, and saw his smile fade and his shoulders slump ever so slightly. Guilt guilt guilt.

"For the new students who don't know who I am, I am Mr. Lancer," the teacher said. "For those who do, I'm sure you remember my class rules." He pointed to a poster on the wall that read:

1) Hand in your homework on time

2) No speaking in class

3) Don't be late to class

"I'm also sure you remember that I have no tolerance for those who break them. Especially," Mr. Lancer growled at Tucker's friend, the boy with the messy black hair, "repeat offenders." The boy hunched in his seat and said nothing.

With that said, Mr. Lancer began his class. He handed out the syllabus for his Regular English Literature class, went over it, and gave each student a copy of _Macbeth_, with order to read the first two scenes. Then came American History, Chemistry, and Algebra II. By the time lunch rolled around, Veronica was exhausted. Not too exhausted to go find Paulina, but exhausted.

The cafeteria was an entirely new battleground, and Veronica was relieved that she'd prepared for it the day before by meeting and interacting with Paulina at the mall. In Dimmsdale High, Tad and Chad had been hiring bodyguards since fifth grade to protect their special Populars-only table from losers. Though most likely there wouldn't be any large men in black suits around the tables here, she was sure that there would be some sort of divide.

Entering the lunchroom, Veronica scanned the scene for the Populars table. She figured her eyes would be immediately drawn to their dazzling (loud,) presence. But as the seconds passed by and she kept looking, Veronica came to realize with a slowly dawning horror that _they weren't there._

If there was one thing worse than not having anyone to sit with on the bus, it was not having anyone to sit with at lunch.

"Looking for someone?"

Veronica flinched at the unexpected voice so near her, but recovered by turning it into a whirl around. There stood Sam Manson, holding a brown paper lunch bag. Oh God, if even she could tell that Veronica was looking helpless, how much more so would every single student in the cafeteria?

"No," Veronica snapped, and began walking away, into the raucous room.

"Paulina's outside," Sam called out over the din of many voices. "Just go through those doors at the end and follow the path to the courtyard."

Veronica did not reply, and instead sped up her pace and pushed out the doors that Sam had pointed out. She held her head up even higher than before, and invisibly seethed. _That witch,_ she mentally snarled. _It's bad enough that I was looking uncertain on my first day of school, but did you have to shout it out to the entire student body?!_ It felt like her cheeks were redder than the blood she wanted to spill. To calm herself down, she imagined the many ways she and Trixie would have enacted their revenge.

_Steal her clothing from the locker room. (Have someone else) put slugs in her lunch bag. Water balloons in her backpack. Razors in her lunchbag._

…Well, maybe the last one was a bit drastic. It was thoughts like those that the therapist was always saying she should Contemplate and Understand How she Truly Felt About That. Thoughts that had brought her to that therapist moron in the first place.

The courtyard was a large, well groomed area that contained picnic tables, basketball courts, and even a gurgling fountain. Students sat either at the picnic tables or on the ground, and it was there that Veronica saw Paulina, Star, Kwan, Dash, and several other lower-tier Populars sitting and chatting under a large tree. Veronica breathed a sigh of relief—she'd been three quarters sure that Sam had lied to her out of spite. It's what she would have done. Paulina saw her walking over and gave a lazy wave.

"Hey, um…" she began when Veronica sat down.

"Veronica," Veronica supplied.

"Veronica, hi!" Paulina tittered, not at all embarrassed at having forgotten her name. "We were actually just talking about you."

"Oh yeah? Saying what?" Veronica asked, all smiles, while her heart beat like a drum in a metal band.

"Actually, about what happened at the mall yesterday," Paulina reiterated. She put her hand to her cheeks and sighed dramatically. "About how my Ghost Boy came and rescued us."

_Rescued me, actually. _Veronica thought wryly. "About that," she said. "Could you tell me more about him, the Ghost Boy? Phantom?"

Paulina gasped excitedly and leaned towards Veronica, a dazzling smile on her face. Seeing it, Veronica couldn't help but mirror her expression. "I can tell you anything you need to know about him. He's always here at the school, protecting us from the mean ghosts and stuff. He always gives me this look, you know, when he sees me in the hall." Her grin changed into a satisfied smirk as she looked at Veronica. "He's totally in love with me, I can tell. If only he weren't too shy to say it!"

"He like, haunts the school or something," another girl Veronica hadn't met before put in. "Fortunately for us he's—"

"Which is good for us, since he's a good guy!" Dash interrupted, having finished a side conversation and leaned in to listen to Paulina.

"He's more than a good guy, he's the _best _guy," Paulina insisted. Dash nodded and grinned, and several other people joined in the conversation with more agreement. Veronica just smiled, agreed, and watched the others. Not one person disagreed with anything Paulina had said; no one expressed any fear or unease at the concept of a ghost haunting the school. Paulina wasn't just physically dazzling, but behaviorally as well. She exuded an aura that drew people to her and made them want—no, _need _her attention and approval.

…Or at least, Veronica thought so.

By the time lunch was over, the conversation had shifted to talking about someone Veronica didn't know, and she was feeling left out. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

"It's 1:30," an athlete Veronica had seen in her class, but did not know by name, put in. They were already five minutes late to fifth period.

"Oh no!" Paulina gasped, and hurriedly picked up her bag. "I have Mrs. Alta," she whined, pouting cutely. "She's so mean to me." She raced off, leaving her trash at the foot of the tree.

Veronica followed, very content. Not only had she been accepted into the popular group's lunch hangout, and been widely seen doing so, but she'd gotten Paulina's undivided attention for several minutes! She couldn't help but grin widely as she quickly walked back into the building. It was _so _worth being late to class.

As she sat in her Spanish class, Veronica couldn't concentrate at all on the teacher or the class expectations he was handing out. Her thoughts were too focused on a certain dazzling junior. By the time the class ended though, her happiness had fermented into something sour. It was the same feeling she'd had in fifth grade for Trixie Tang, the desperate desire to be close to her, to be seen by her, to _be _her. But this time it wasn't for Trixie.

A need.

Veronica groaned and leaned over her desk. _No, no, this can't be happening!_ She screamed at herself; she thought she'd been cured. The bell rang and Veronica stuffed her things into her backpack and raced off. Last period was gym—if anything could clear her mind, it was physical activity. Until she managed to cure herself, she'd better get herself onto a cheerleading team.

Veronica made her way to the girls' changing room, occasionally bumping into other students and she walked down the hall with her head buried in the map. She was so lost that she walked straight into a teacher, and for the second time that day, sent someone else's things scattered to the floor.

"Oh, uh, sorry," Veronica apologized, and glanced up at the person she'd run into.

Red. Red everywhere.

"Oh that's alright, sweetie," she woman said. She had bright red hair and wore a short red skirt suit. Apart from her green eyes and purple eye shadow, red was the only color on her. But she made it work. "Not everyone is physically coordinated."

Yowch. Not the mindset Veronica wanted to start off her highschool—and possibly cheerleading—career with. "Um, right," she said, not wanting to get into it, and made to walk away.

"Wait," the woman called. "You're Veronica Werden, is that correct?"

"Yeah?"

"Nice to meet you, sweetie," the woman said with an outstretched hand. Her voice was low and sultry, and for some reason it bothered Veronica, but she obediently shook the woman's hand as she introduced herself. "I'm Francine Tasma, the school psychologist. I'm supposed to meet with every new student, but well, you're not a normal freshman…"

"Okay," Veronica muttered, anxious to get to gym and hoping that this shrink would tell her that she didn't have to meet with her because she _wasn't _a normal freshman.

"So I was thinking we should meet sometime soon." Crap. "How about lunch tomorrow, in the courtyard?" Crap crap crap. "Veronica?"

"Um, yeah, okay," Veronica said quickly. Great. Not only would this stupid psychologist be assessing her and almost certainly deciding that she was Joker-grade crazy, but she'd be taking that time away from time she could have spent with Paulina. Well, maybe it was a good thing. Maybe the Need would go away if she just avoided its cause.

With the meeting time set, Veronica went to gym class to work off stress. She didn't see nor hear the woman behind her smile, and then giggle, and then laugh hysterically.

Oh my," the woman sighed after her laughter died away. "What a girl…what a girl!" She whisked herself away, laughing all the while.

* * *

An hour later, Danny rubbed his neck as he packed his stuff into his backpack. It was just the first day of school and he was exhausted. Three spectral fights, in the form of Spectra, Skulker, and Johnny 13, as well as the already-ridiculously-copious homework and Dash's abuse in dodgeball, had left him as wiped as he'd been every day the previous year.

Grabbing his thermos, he shook it vigorously, listening with vindictive satisfaction to the ghosts' shouts and growls within. Johnny and Skulker both screamed out their respective taglines, but they were helpless in the container. Danny grinned.

Wait. "Where's Spectra?" he asked the ghosts inside the thermos.

"How should I know, whelp?" Skulker snarled. "Now release me, so I may hunt you to oblivion and ca—"

"Yeah yeah," Danny muttered, stuffing the cylindrical prison in his bag. How had she escaped? He'd have to nudge his parents in the direction of examining the thermos… and then go catch Spectra. Again. Danny sighed and caught up with his friends, who had thoughtfully waited for him to finish his after-school fight with Johnny before leaving. Looked like he wouldn't be getting much sleep this year, either.

** *I sincerely apologize to any and all teachers out there who are offended by this statement. I'm just referring to a remark that Crocker made in FOP, when he was revealed shirtless or something on a stage. He said something that went like: "Hey, you try getting a gym membership on a teacher's salary!" in response to the reaction to his super scrawny build. Lancer has the same problem, just in the opposite direction. Besides, we all know that when he's not grading papers he's playing _Doom._******

**Next time: Ronnie sees some Danny Phantom action, because her drama is freaking boring. Remember, review and follow if you want me to continue!**


	4. STATUS UPDATE::

Alright everyone, sorry for the long wait, but Stories of a Satellite is finally going to be updated again. I've got about three thousand words worth of content written, but I need to know how the public would prefer I update: Large chapters updated very infrequently, or smaller chapters updated on a more regular schedule? The point may be moot, depending on how many words I have when I come to a stopping point in my writing, but I'd still like your opinion on the matter.

Please review the story with your vote and your reasoning. I'll probably take this chapter down when I post the next one. Thanks y'all! :D

-TKF


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